


Silver Arms

by SJ_Sixx



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Light Swearing, PTSD, Tony Is Not Helping, bucky doesn't know Disney, reader has a metal arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJ_Sixx/pseuds/SJ_Sixx
Summary: *SET AFTER CA:CW*Bucky joins the tower, having had his mind cleaned by the scientists in Wakanda, but he's about to discover he's not the only one with a metal arm





	Silver Arms

**WARNING: Some swearing, little bit of violence, mentioning of PTSD**

 

All you could hear was yelling.

  
“What is going on now?” you muttered, taking a drink of the scotch you had poured yourself, trying to decode what was being shouted across the tower.

“I am not happy with this!” You recognized Tony’s voice, whose scotch you were currently drinking.

“Stark, I don’t think you get much choice in this!” That was Steve – oh lord, what now?

Taking the drink with you, you wandered over to the hallway where the yelling was coming from, leaning casually in the doorframe. Tony looked pretty pissed, arms flailing everywhere as he tried to prove whatever point he was making. Steve was trying to calm him, but it didn’t seem to be working.

You then heard footsteps behind you – they weren’t heavy enough to be Thor’s, they were too heavy to be Natasha’s, Bruce was still cooped up in his lab, Loki was in his room, so they had to be Clint.

“What they arguing over now?” you idly asked.

You got no response.

“Clint?”

When no one answered, you spun round quickly, dropping the glass (you’d buy Tony a new one later), pulling a knife from the sheath in your belt. However, it was quickly knocked from your hands, and your wrist twisted in a way that no wrist should – judging by the loud crack it made and the white hot pain. This was of no use though, as you aimed a good kicking to the stomach, meaning your attacker let go, enabling you to dive for your knife and spin to face whomever it was.

It was a man. He had floppy, dark brown hair, and blue eyes, with a warn face. However, what caught your eye was the metal arm – identical to your own.

His own eyes were drawn to yours – as you wore a tank top a lot, yours was not hidden, as you found sleeves to often catch in it.

“[Name]! Bucky! Put the weapons away!”

Steve was jogging towards you both; motioning for you to lower whatever was in your hands.

Straightening up, you put your knife away, flexing the wrist that the man, Bucky had grabbed – you thought it was broken, but you’d have to get Loki or Bruce to check that one out.

“[Name], this James Barnes, also known as Bucky. He was part of my squad during WWII, before being captured by Hydra. He’s since come round, and joined SHEILD. Bucky, this is [Name], she’s…”

“Don’t Steve. Is Loki still in is room?” you interrupted.

“Yeah, why?”

“Need to go see him.” You grunted, pushing past and making your way towards the demi-god’s room.

  
It was later in the evening when you came into contact with “Bucky” again. You were back at the bar, this time on a glass of whiskey, unable to sleep – although you knew the alcohol would not help. You were staring out the glass window, watching the city as it lit up before you.

You heard footsteps again, and cast a glance over your shoulder.

“Oh. It’s you.” You muttered, returning your glance to the city.

“Would have thought you would be asleep.” Bucky merely said.

“Insomnia is a bitch.”

“Don’t you have any pills?”

“What makes you think I want to sleep?”

There was a silence, in which you took another sip of whiskey, feeling the burning sensation as it ran down your throat.

“Why didn’t you cry when I broke your wrist?”

This made you turn round.

“What?” you asked.

“I broke your wrist, and you barley flinched.” He said, pushing the hair from his eyes.

“I was in the Marines for two years. I went thought top level SERE training. I was sent into the deepest pits of hell. A broken wrist is nothing for me.” you shrugged off.

“And now you work for SHEILD. Why? What’s so special about you?” Bucky asked.

“Apart from my metal arm? I have, abilities, lets say.”

“Like?”

“Like the ability to kick your ass if you don’t stop asking questions.”

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just go find your file.”

You squinted at him, trying to tell if he was bluffling.

“I’m not bluffing.”

Swearing inwardly, you pushed you [h/c] hair out your eyes, before wondering where to start.

“I was born with, odd powers. My parents, obviously confused and terrified that they had a freak for a daughter, didn’t know what to do. Until SHEILD paid them a visit, that is. I was practically dumped in the agents’ arms upon their arrival. The organisation took me, trained me up, until I was 16, when I wanted to join the Marines. They weren’t too pleased about it, but they agreed anyway. I was trained up, went through the top training and became a Marine. I worked with them for roughly two years, until one mission in Afghanistan, when I was captured, tortured and had my arm cut off. We were eventually rescued, but SHEILD was insistent that I pull out, and join the Avenger’s. I didn’t have much choice. I pulled out at 18, got a cybotronic arm fixed onto my stump and have been working with SHEILD now for a year. I haven’t slept since that mission.”

“What powers?”

“I dunno, just, powers. I can move things without touching them. I can control water, and fire, and air, and earth. I can speak any language I want,” you looked back at the stars, “but… I just want to be normal sometimes. I don’t want all of this… all of these memories…”

A sharp pain flashed across your head, and the sounds came, screams, gunfire, explosions, the anguished roars of your fellow comrades, the yells of the enemy in a foreign tongue that only you and they knew…

“[Name], [Name]!”

You forced your eyes open. You were on your knees, clutching your head, Bucky kneeling next to you. You breathed in, taking large gulps of air. You could feel a small sting in your hand, but barley registered it.

Arms were round you before you could react, the cool metal contradicting the warm chest that you were being pressed against. Your hands scrabbled for material, before clutching it, your lips pressed tightly together in an attempt not to cry. You couldn’t cry, you were a solider, a Marine no less..

But nothing seemed to be able to stop the few traitorous tears that escaped, sliding down your cheeks, and it wasn’t long until you were weeping into his shirt, his arms enclosing you tightly, warily rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you. You could feel the stubble on his chin brush against your hair as he gently planted a kiss on top of your head.

You pulled away soon after, fiercely rubbing your eyes to remove any trace evidence of tears – although, not with your metal hand of course.

“Sorry, sorry…” you muttered.

“I don’t understand why you are apologising. You’re human. It’s natural.” Bucky shrugged.

You nodded, looking to your hand, and then the broken glass on the floor.

“That’s the second of his glasses I’ve broke today.” You cursed, bending down to pick the pieces up, ignoring the blood coming from the shard in your palm.

However, a metal hand grabbed your wrist. You were marched to the sink, where Bucky removed the shard, before cleaning the cut and dressing it from the conveniently placed First Aid kit – you made a mental note to thank JARVIS later.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“No problem, kid.” Bucky grunted.

The glass had gone from the floor – you again suspected JARVIS – and you made your way to the lounge, intending on watching some film, probably Disney or something.

However, just as you had put on The Lion King, Bucky had sat beside you, watching your selection.

“Disney? We only had the 3 films before I left…” he mulled.

“There’s like, over 100 now or something.” You said, pressing play.

As the beginning started, you felt a warm arm slip round you. Smiling, you leant your head on Bucky’s shoulder, settling down to watch the film.

  
~*Extended Ending*~

As Steve went up in the lift, he yawned, wondering where [Name] was, as she hadn’t been in the gym this morning, like she was every morning.

“Maybe she just decided not to this morning.” He mumbled, hearing the beep that confirmed he had reached his floor.  
However, as he stepped out, he was met with a confusing, yet heart-warming sight.

On the sofa, was Bucky, asleep. Curled up into him, was [Name], looking like she had finally gotten some sleep. The sight made Steve smile.

“Hey, Capside, what’s occurring – oh ho!” Tony had appeared behind him, and was smirking.

The voice of Tony had stirred the two, and [Name] opened her eyes just as Tony took a picture on his phone.

“TWITTER TIME!”

“STARK, GET BACK HERE OR I WILL RIP YOUR BEARD OUT HAIR BY HAIR!”

“Orange Juice?” Steve asked Bucky lightly.

“Gladly.” Bucky chuckled slightly, the sound of the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist being chased by an angry ex-marine echoing around the Tower.


End file.
